Dead Alive
by ValRocks
Summary: I'm not dead, trust me. But I'm not living either. I'm the in-between, the gray, the medium. The turning point between life and death. This is the story of how I tipped the balance, courtsey of the Ghost King
1. Prologue

**Well, hi. No spoilers, no review whoring, I just hope that you'll enjoy this story :D**

* * *

I didn't truly wake up. It was more like, well... I don't know. Different, somehow, from awakening. None of the drowsy feeling, no kinks to work out of my back. Strange, really.

I was standing in a field. A very black, depressing field. The ground sprouted patches of what may or may not have once been grass, now lifeless and dry, the ground beneath the gray strands charcoal-black. In front of me, the field was crowded, but not with humans.

They were just... shapes. All of them wore gray, clothing varying in condition and time periods. All of it looked like mist, with only the barest variation of light and dark to define the cloth, or their faces and hair.

I blinked. Looking down at myself, I realized that I was different, somehow.

I was less dead than them, even if my hands were still transparent and my clothes trailed white mist when I took a step back.

A spirit came up to me. A woman, in a business suit, her mascara smeared and her face angry. Her mouth moved as if she was shouting, but all I could hear was a faint clicking, chattering, a squeal here and there. Realizing that I couldn't understand her, the woman drifted away, still chattering to herself.

I looked around, paying more attention now. Occasionally, black trees broke the horizon, and one portion of the cavern ceiling was lit a dim orange. I headed there.

You know, sometimes you encounter a trance-like state for no real reason and go about your tasks, not really thinking, just going through the motions? Same here.

I walked for what seemed like minutes, but when I thought about the number of times I'd looked around to see that the, um, treescape had changed a lot, I realized that I'd been walking for hours. I didn't care, just kept walking. Maybe I'd been wrong and I was just as dead as the rest of them.

Maybe they saw themselves as different too.

Some time later, I actually got close enough to see what was casting that orange light. _That_ woke me up.

Behind a chain link fence and barbed wire, was the closest to Hell you could probably get. Miles of rocky landscape with rivers of lava and ice-cold ponds and bonfires and minefields. And souls. Innumerable souls, all of them facing their own private tortures.

Since nobody was there to stop me, I found a torn-up portion of the fence and climbed through. Instantly, the screams and moans were a thousand times louder.

I looked behind me, wondering if maybe I should go back.

Staring at me from the other side of the fence was a boy. And he looked wonderfully... alive.

"What are you doing?" he hissed, looking around. "How did you even... doesn't matter. Come."

I shook my head. He looked scary, somehow, with his black hair and the dagger he held in his hand.

His eyes narrowed. "I'm Nico, and you're not dead. But if you plan to go there, that might very well change."

Still, something about him was untrustworthy. I took a step back.

"Don't be stupid."

Clenching my teeth, I turned and walked away. Farther into the underworld. Into Hell.

* * *

**A very short prologue, but it _is_ a prologue. **

**-Val**


	2. We Get A Quest

**This takes place before the events of The Last Olympian, if you remember, Nico came to Percy on his birthday at the end of The Titan's Curse and spoke about a way to defeat Kronos. Then he next appeared in the Demigod Files when he, Percy and Thalia searched for the Sword of Hades. Then he remained in the underworld to speak with his father. So, that's that. **

* * *

Nico cursed. The spirit, girl, whatever was being all too stubborn. And the fact that she didn't listen to him, as nearly everything in the Underworld did, was a little... unusual. So it was mostly his curiosity, not worry about what the ghost would get herself into as she traveled through the Fields of Punishment, that spurred him on to climb after her through the fence and follow.

She walked briskly, and with direction. Another thing to set her apart from the truly deceased- she had purpose. An instinct. Free will. All of it was very, very strange.

He knew what he should be doing- he should be going to his father, both to return the Sword and to discuss the upcoming battle. If he really wanted to do things right, he would also take the anomaly with him, so that she could be dealt with.

But no. Of course he wasn't about to do things right- this was way too much of an opportunity to learn more. With Minos gone, he had no one to teach him new things, no one to make him stronger. So curiosity would have to do.

He had, oddly, always liked this particular part of the Underworld. You looked at the souls, and you knew that every single bad person that lived now would someday be here, forever burning, forever tortured. All their bad deeds would cost them an eternity of punishment. It was comforting.

He smirked. What an odd way for a kid to comfort himself. Observing the eternal damnation of dead humans, some time ago, would have seemed, to him, pretty darn scary.

The girl seemed to also be interested in the view. She watched, captivated, as someone stood on a tall platform, held in place by ropes. The torture was just starting.

An arrow sprouted from the woman's chest. She bucked, the ghost of blood welling up, slicking her naked body. Another arrow appeared. The woman squealed, a sound like that of a pig being butchered. Another arrow. More blood.

Soon, she had dozens of wooden shafts sticking out of her, all of them in the front. Seven in each arm. About twenty in her stomach, on her chest. Ten or so in each leg. Seven in her face.

Already, she looked like a human-shaped hunk of meat, sweat and tears and blood glistening in the orange light. But she was not dead, she still felt, she still made noises. Except now, with her throat punctured twice, all the sounds she could really get out were mostly high-pitched whines and gurgles.

Nico shivered. Now the arrows would be pulled out, and the woman turned around, only to be mutilated in the same way from behind. Then she would be cooked alive, and that as that. The torture would start again.

Some ways ahead of him, the anomaly turned away, walking on. He went after. Every several dozen of feet, they passed a new torture. None of them were the same. Each was personalized, fitted to the greatest fears of the one being punished. If one feared bugs, they were forced to chew them, or hold them in their mouth as the things writhed and crawled down their throat. If one feared a certain person, a likeness of that person came to haunt them.

The anomaly stopped and turned around. She stared at him, eyes empty. "Who are you?"

"Nico."

"What do you want from me?"

"Just curious."

"You said I'm not dead."

"You're not."

"But I'm not alive."

"You're not."

"Wonderful."

The first sign of emotion. He shook his head. "What's your name?"

She paused before answering. "Kat."

"Okay, Kat, we should get out of here. It's not a very good place to be."

"Okay."

That was odd. But then again, he was used to the scene around them. He doubted she had ever seen anything... quite so horrid.

Leading her back the way they'd come, he wondered why the hell he was doing anything to help her.

* * *

I stared at Nico. He seemed so out of place here, or maybe it was just me. Yes, he wore all black and I could see some silver jewelry reflecting the flames, but it was like his solidity, his lack of transparency, made him stick out among the misty figures and landscape.

I, on the other hand, had nearly nothing to distinguish me from one of them.

Finally, we were out through the fence. The screams and wails faded. The heat at my back was a sharp contrast to the cool, slightly moist air of the black fields in front of us.

"So." I started as he marched ahead, towards a black palace I hadn't noticed before. "What do I do?"

"You walk after me. We have to see my father."

"And who, exactly, is he?"

Nico slowed his pace, looking back at her and waiting for me to catch up. "The Lord of the Dead. Hades."

Something scratched at the back of my mind. Hades was bad. I'd always known it, somehow. He was not to be trusted. "I don't want to go."

He sighed, exasperated. 'You have to, if you want to figure out your little... problem."

"I'm not coming."

"Really."

For a second he seemed to focus directly on me, staring at my eyes intently. Then he relaxed and looked away. "It's not working." he said, bewildered.

"What?"

"Never mind. Let's go."

"No. There is no way I'm walking into Hades's palace of my own free will."

"I want to help."

"By giving me over to him? Interesting method. He'll just give me over to be dealt with by the Kindly Ones." the words sprung out of my mouth before I had really thought them.

"You're a half-blood." he said. "You remember when you were alive?"

"No. I mean, yes. I'm a half-blood. I don't remember."

"But you know everything. Tell me, who is Chiron?"

"A centaur. Camp... camp something."

"Camp Half-Blood."

"Yes."

I looked down, half expecting to see my orange T-shirt. The one I always wore.

Even if my shirt was orange, it had lost it's color to my... undeadedness.

"What year is it?"

"I don't know... nineteen seventy?"

Nico whistled. "Try thirty years later."

I shook my head. Really? "Maybe Chiron will recognize me?"

"Hades is a better one to try first. And I have to... visit him anyways. And you are coming. I'll make sure he doesn't harm you."

I snorted, crossing my arms.

"I promise."

Slowly, I looked back at him.

"Let's go."

I went.

* * *

Hades was too busy, always busy. Even as his sword was returned to him and his son spoke of some war, he was always half-turned towards one of the three Furies, muttering something to her or listening intently as she hissed in his ear. I could see why Nico seemed so distanced from his father.

Of course, it was to be expected. Gods rarely paid much attention to their offspring. My mouth tasted bitter and my fists clenched on instinct.

Well, at least he did nothing about me. Somehow, I was glad. As I stood in the corner of his throne room, everything inside of me was screaming for me to run, to not look back and to wear my feet to nothing, until I was far enough. If it was even possible- getting far enough from this... man. Being. Whatever.

Nico kept talking, and the Furies kept hissing, and I was very bored.

Finally, what seemed like hours later, Nico bowed. "One last thing, Father."

Hades raised one brow. "Speak."

"Her- she is... what do I do about her?"

And then his eyes were on me, those horrible black orbs of death itself. I shuddered.

"You have to find her body. From there... it will be simple enough. Go."

And that was that. We went, Nico bowing and elbowing me. I bowed. Hades wasn't even looking at us.

"What a kind, charming father you have." I whispered. Find my body? Oh, wonderful. Piece of cake.

"Shush. I'm thinking."

I huffed, walking after him out of the palace and back the way we'd come. "Where are we going?"

"To find your body. If you didn't notice, he just gave us a quest."

Quest. That sounded familiar. "It's impossible."

"Yeah."

* * *

**-Val**


End file.
